


Get to Know Me

by Kozmotittspitchiner



Series: Shingeki No Kyojin Prompts [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Jean is an idiot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 14:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kozmotittspitchiner/pseuds/Kozmotittspitchiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt given: jean/armin cutsey and porn where armin twists his ankle during training and jean is told to take him back to the dorms and help bandage his ankle up and stuff happens. you know what kinda stuff! smut and fluff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get to Know Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm SO confused right now because I was pretty sure that Jean's name is spelled Kirschstein. Like Cherrystone, just German. (´･ω･`) ANYHOW I really enjoyed writing that one. I ship those two dorks so much.

“Oh, just stop it.” Jean's voice is laced with puffs of air, but he still doesn't bother to speak so quietly only Armin hears it. The entire trainees squad can hear him speak and it's making Armin so uncomfortable that he's not even turning his head, his blond bangs shielding his face from their eyes. His teeth already gnaw on his bottom lip from the pain that his ankle is sending through his body each and every time his foot meets the muddy ground.

“Oi, Goldilocks.” Jean tries, but he's still not being successful in gathering the boy's attention. He's thinking for a moment, grinning like he thinks the next one is brilliant. “Hey, Toadstool.”

“It's not good to talk while you run. Leave me alone.” Armin replies, trying to steady out his voice as good as he can manage, which – isn't very good.

“I've seen you twist your ankle.” Jean replies, unimpressed with the other boy's attempt to make him back off. “You're hurting.”

_Oh, great._ Armin thinks, grabbing the gear he's supposed to carry until the end tighter to stifle some of the pain. He's going to pull through with this just as much as every other trainee. He doesn't need someone calling him out on falling back again. And it hurts too much to talk, so he just stares at the ground as he runs, trying to re-gain control over his breathing.

“You're always acting like you're the smart one.” Jean continues, bending forward as he runs so he can possibly get a glimpse of Armin's face. “If you keep running like that, you'll strain it worse than you can even imagine and you'll be useless for quite a while. Don't even wanna know what damage you've already done. Stop running.”

Armin knows he's right, but he also knows that if he stops running now, everybody else will think that he's just inventing a reason for being weaker than them. He doesn't want to be the weak one. He can do it, he just has to put more weight on the other foot. “I'll be fine.”

“No you won't!!” Jean shouts and suddenly most of the squad turns their heads and their superior has his eyes on them. Armin can see that Eren is slowing down to catch up with him, too. And it pisses him off somehow.

“No talking!!” their superior barks, glaring at the both of them. “Unless you've got a very good reason for distracting everyone from their training.”

“It's nothing, Sir--”

“He twisted his ankle and he can't keep running, Sir!!”

Jean started speaking the same time he did. It's almost brave to bark the truth out into the open like that, but still, Armin didn't want everyone to know. He looks up and can see their superior coming closer. “That true, boy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Next time you say something before the way back gets longer and longer. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, Sir.”

“You--” he points at Jean. “Make sure he gets back safely.”

Jean clearly thinks something along the lines of _why me, he has his own two bodyguards?_ But doesn't dare to speak up again, so he just nods. At least that's what Armin figures his expression means. Eren doesn't look satisfied with the situation, either, but keeps running into the right direction since it's what everybody is doing and he has someone to take care of him.

“Are you happy now?” Armin asks as they walk side by side and let their breathing slow down. It's really a while until they will be back at a slow pace and walking at a normal speed actually seems to hurt more. Or Armin just gave the pain enough time to sink in.

“Why would I?” Jean replies, giving him a side glance. “I'm missing out on training because you're stubborn.” He keeps looking at him and Armin knows that he can see that he's still hurting, no matter how hard he tries to keep his face under control. “And you're still being stubborn, hell.”

With that the taller soldier takes a step towards him and snakes his arm under Armin's to steady the side that should be the one that's hurting according to how the blond walks. To his surprise, Armin doesn't struggle. He can smell his hair from how close they are, hear his breathing. They've never been that close before. They walk like that in silence for a while.

“Why do you care?” Armin's question is quiet, his head hanging low in something akin to defense. Something that Jean would like to wipe off his face, because it's just as self-centered as what his brat friend Eren keeps criticizing about him. “You're here for your own sake.” And there, Armin mentions it. As if everything about him is military police. “You never cared.”

“You're a team mate.” Jean mumbles, but isn't sure if he would have cared about everyone equally at the same time. The slender blond tried so hard, though. Despite of how much of a ninny he looked like and of a nerd he seemed to be, he tried. There was a fire in his eyes that hailed right from his soul in the moments that he stepped over his boundaries. And those moments weren't rare. And Jean found himself wondering whether he _ever_ looked like that and how he went out of his way to watch that boy he had no connection to whatsoever shine. But of course Jean can't say that without sounding weird, so his lips tighten and he watches their pathway instead.

They can see the dorms from very far away now.

“Sorry.” Armin whispers and the sudden softness of his voice makes Jean feel as if he picked up on his thoughts nonetheless. “I shouldn't have asked you that.”

It's aggravating how slow they are with both their gears shouldered and Jean dragging Armin through the mud. Jean hopes that he can make it to the military police without ever having to drag the injured body of a comrade through a battlefield, but he hasn't seen enough of their new reality to be really frightened by the thought. Pushing it into the back of his mind is what keeps him going.

When they arrive at the dorms they're exhausted and the rest of the team is going to be back soon, too. Jean doesn't immediately let go of Armin, though, he helps to walk him to the bottom bunk he's usually sleeping on himself. There is no way Armin is allowed to climb his top bunk right now.

The blond sees through his logic and sighs, dropping his gear to the floor and beginning to remove his heavy clothing. Jean does the same, but only removes as much as the cloak and then he just stands there, watching Armin fumble belts open.

“Take your boots off, buddy.” he says determinedly and the boy gives him an annoyed look.

“My feet will look just fine from the outside.” he says, but does as he's told either way, yanking the tight boots off his leg with a pained expression when he gets to the twisted ankle. It still hurts.

“I'mma go get bandages.” Jean says and leaves to walk to the very end of the room where they have a small cupboard with all sorts of medical things, except painkillers or pills. He returns with nothing but a roll of bandage, juggling it through the air on his way back. Armin hasn't changed his position, he just looks up at him with a look in his eyes Jean can't really read.

Without another word, Jean drops to his knees. Armin's expression changes again. There's a little bit of wonder to his blue eyes now, surprise maybe. Jean grabs his foot and he winces. “Ouch.”

“I've got to grab you tightly so this works.” The older male comments, brows furrowing in concentration as he musters the boy's slender foot. He has bandaged things up before, but weirdly enough, this one seems to be the most fragile. “Stop whining.”

Armin looks down at him and wonders how they got from bantering on the run to sitting here alone. They're basically strangers. This should feel _strange_. Armin doesn't like most people. And he was pretty sure he didn't like Jean, either. He's one of the selfish guys. The one that push you into dirty corners if they can only get the best for themselves. Right? But the young man that is kneeling in front of him doesn't seem like that. He's so concentrated. He's so...there. Right there.

His fingers pull down his sock and they touch bare skin. A quiet exhale escapes him at the feeling of it. He hasn't touched the part that hurts, it simply has been a while since he was touched. To be frank, he couldn't remember the last time someone but him touched his bare feet.

Armin flushes and hopes Jean won't see it. And will just start bandaging up already. But Jean just kind of stares at his foot. “What?” The blonde asks, but his voice isn't as stubborn as before, it's quiet, amused and _damn_ , Jean really likes to hear it. “Can you see any bones peeking out that I can't see?” The older trainee blinks and looks up to him with a feigned indignant look on his face.

“Eh? No. No bones outside of the skin bag.”

“ _Skin bag_? Gross.”

Armin runs a hand through his hair and brushes the strands of one side behind his ear. He's laughing under his breath. The sun outside is setting, painting the room a warm orange where the light of it breaks through the windows so they can see the dust dance. Jean isn't sure whether a ray of it just hit Armin right in the face, or if he just looks that celestial to _him_.

Fuck this shit. He isn't falling for a blond angel boy out of a sudden. He's not into boys. He's not into soft laughter and shy glances that are directed at him through dark lashes every time Armin pretends he's not really looking at him. It's probably because he's been in the army too long already. Yeah, that's it. And because Armin's hair is really fucking gorgeous like that.

The boy gently nudges his hand with his foot, even though the movement seems to be hurting. “Didn't you want to bandage me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

In a whim, Jean runs the tip of his index finger over the instep of Armin's foot. He hears a huff of breath from somewhere above him and decides to do it again, moving them slower, with just a little bit more pressure. This time the breathing is a muffled noise. Jean decides against looking up to check on the boy and spreads his fingers to run thumb and index finger over each side of his foot. Armin's skin is smooth, despite of the running. It's pale and perfect, pink at the tip of his toes. What's the most beautiful about the sight is his ankle, though. But it's the one part that hurts and Jean won't touch it.

He repeats the motion instead, just to draw a louder noise from Armin when he applies more pressure there, too. What is he doing? Why is the boy reacting so strongly? He still has time to put it off as a joke, as if he just planned on tickling him, not actually giving him a moment of damn foot worship. Jean never was into feet or ankles either. He quietly wonders what else he's into he doesn't know about...yet. But then he looks up at meets Armin's eye.

The boy looks like a deer caught in the flashlight, because he clearly didn't think Jean would look back at him in that very moment. His cheeks are flushed and his teeth grace his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the sounds he makes.

The sight is too much to just give up on the opportunity – even if it's an opportunity that Jean didn't even aim at having itself opened in front of him.

“You like that, huh?” Jean asks, his voice a low, raunchy whisper. He didn't even know he was able to make his voice sound like that. He repeats the motion, but tenderly lets his fingers slide over the underside of Armin's foot this time. It's a wonder he doesn't break out into giggling. If it had been Jean, he sure as hell would have.

Armin nods, head lowering so his bangs fall into his face. His strands of hair are still disheveled from their travel, but it's not enough to make the head of blond look completely messed up. It's enough to make him look sexy, though. Almost like bed hair. But what had really been important was the nod. Jean is not sure what evil bitch of a demon is possessing him, but he's raising Armin's foot enough to press a kiss in the middle of it.

“I just-- ran.” Armin mutters, but the older male can feel the tremble spreading through his body even before he removes his lips from the smooth skin.

“Uh-hu. We all did.” Jean comments and wants to launch at the boy to ravage him here and there, but he decides to go the other way instead. He's surprised of himself today, man.

He grabs the bandages and picks up Armin's foot once more and begins to apply it properly. Slowly. With some pressure. His hands are a little too rough for the detail work, so he has to start all over at one point. Armin watches him, but he doesn't look up to let him know that he knows. Armin is sensitive. Armin twitches at every touch of finger pad to naked skin.

They're all touch-deprived, in way, it makes sense. Jean also suspects Armin to be the type that had never been touched in any way other than colloquial, but he bites the question back to be polite. The little genius is offended so easily. It takes him a while, but he manages to fix his ankle up properly, so it's not strained when he moves. The bandage is tight, but not too tight.

Once he's done, Jean realizes that he didn't plan the next step to his dive into gay (does it still count as gay when the other guy looks so damn beautiful?) ocean, but when two slender hands entangle in his hair and tug at it he knows that he didn't have to. Armin seems to have a pretty good imagination of what is going to happen next. When Jean follows the tug and looks up, he catches determination in those blue eyes, despite of how flushed and embarrassed he also looks.

“Close your eyes, please.” Armin whispers and the softness of his tone makes Jean go all gooey inside, so he complies, shuffling closer, but not getting up from his knees. He's pulled into a kiss.

Like with most things, Armin is inexperienced, but clever. Wherever he has all that knowledge from, he apparently also has a kissing catalog engraved into his brain. He's pecking him, at first, lips gentle like those of a girl. But then he presses forward and nibbles at his bottom lip in a sort of demanding way. When Jean opens his mouth the tiniest bit, Armin's tongue pushes past his teeth and meets his. The boy slides forward, his hands grabbing his hair tighter as he releases a small moan into Jean's mouth.

“Hey.”

The blond doesn't look satisfied with being interrupted at all and slides his eyes open, distancing himself just enough for Jean to look back into them.

“Hey, you're sliding off the bed. You're gonna drop to the floor. And as much as I'd like you on my lap...” He can practically feel the kid's face bristle with heat at that comment. “'s not good for your ankle. So would you let me move?” Armin doesn't immediately do anything. “Please?” Jean's voice has reached a new level of low and needy. But it seems to hit a spot within his slender little friend and he nods again, sliding backwards. He pulls Jean with him, though.

Armin's legs are spread wide for Jean to fit between them, and they keep kissing, riling themselves up with the heat it causes within them. They might drop off the other side of the rather narrow bunk bed, but it's not close enough to that for them to care.

Jean has started to grind down and against Armin's groin, taking in his reactions and evaluating what makes him quiver the most. There's a specific angle of his hips that he has to adjust into before he crashes into the other boy and he has found it now. The soft mewls and moans coming from Armin turn into growls that Jean never thought he was capable of. They're low and escape his throat each time their erections meet.

Armin spreads his legs further and allows him more entrance, grabbing a fist full of the back of his shirt to pull him closer even though that's hardly even still possible. They're both breathing rapidly. Jean is rock hard in his trousers, but they're both too clueless and overwhelmed by the fact that the encounter is happening at all to strip down completely.

Armin keeps clutching and clawing at every part he can find, so Jean snatches his hands mid-air when he adjusts himself the next time to pin them onto the mattress above his head. It gives him the chance to grind down even harder, too, and he does it, causing Armin's head to fall back as he gives another of those growls Jean can't get enough of.

Much to his embarrassment, Jean comes first. He has to bite hard into Armin's shoulder so he doesn't moan out so loud the entire yard can hear it. At least he's not making a mess out of anything but the insides of his pants, feeling his hot cum seep his pants with a warmth that will be uncomfortable soon. He doesn't get why Armin hasn't finished yet at all. The blonde blinks in confusion when he realizes that Jean's movements have stopped and his gaze is met by a smirk.

“Might as well end up where we started.” Jean comments, looking self-conscious for a moment. Armin still can't believe he let it come so far. He's sticky with sweat and he's so hard it hurts. He's not used to this. He's not used to any of it and he didn't think he'd do it with anyone who is someone he isn't very close to. His lips are flushed and his bottom lip is especially pink where his teeth kept sinking into it when the sensations got just too much.

“You started out on the floor.” Armin says in a lack of better things to say, brows furrowing in confusion when Jean suddenly slides off of him and grabs his hand on the way, tugging him back towards the edge of the mattress. “You're not going to kiss my foot again, Jean.”

Jean likes the way he says his name. A little scolding. But also as if it's a word that is freshly wrapped up into his vocabulary. Something he uses for the first time in a real situation and that he's saving for later use. Jean drops onto his knees again, all though he's still a little shaky. From up there he opens the button of Armin's trousers in the same way he removed his socks earlier. He's doing it slowly, opening the zip, too, sliding his hand into his pants to get his erection out – what's not really difficult, seeing how hard he is.

He's leaking pre-cum already and Jean braces himself for his first taste of cock as he palms it to get a good grip on it before he leans in, his tongue twirling around the tip of it. He can feel Armin shiver. It's almost like he's trying to escape the sensation, his toes curling every time Jean gives his cock a gentle lick. It's amazing that he still hasn't spluttered cum all over his face.

“You last long.” Jean murmurs and his lashes flutter close before he tries to take more of him in, sucking carefully. Armin's hands have found their way into his hair again, grabbing it hard. The little brat is actually starting to guide him, pulling him closer. He's greedy, no matter how selfless he and his friends pretend to be most of the time. But Jean chases that thought away, too, and tries to keep up with what Armin wants, even if he chokes. He doesn't choke, because when the boy's cock is close to touch the back of his throat, he already comes undone.

Jean tries to swallow it all, but then Armin, in a sudden fit of wanting to be polite pushes his head back and unloads all over his face. That better not be what he's been aiming for.

He's dripping with the boy's cum when he looks up at him and to his surprise and utter indignation, the boy lets out a breathy giggle. He's still panting from his orgasm and his eyes are glazed over by something so dirty it doesn't fit into his innocent face, but he can't help it, letting go of Jean's hair to stifle the laughter. “Sorry.” he says between one after the other giggle. “I'm sorry.”

He slides down and onto the floor after that, despite of how much Jean wants to protest because of his ankle. He's straddling Jean, careful not to put too much weight on him since he's still halfway on his knees and begins to kiss the first bit of cum away from his lips. His kisses are light, but every now and then his tongue flickers out like that of a kitten and he works his way over Jean's cheeks, chin and jaw. Once he's done, Jean slings his arms around him and lifts him up to throw him back onto the bed and they both fall into the mattress.

They lie next to each other for a while, just looking into each other's faces.

“I don't know you at all.” Armin states after a while, sounding a lot more like his usual face. But then he reaches out and touches Jean's face, his thumb swiping over his cheek as if he sees him for the first time.

“Do you want to get to know me?”

“Yes.”

“Don't just say that, I can take it, been ditched before.”

“You're an idiot.”

“One step closer to getting to know me.”

“Jean?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” They meet halfway and kiss with their eyes closed. Armin is halfway to falling asleep in his arms when he can hear the others come and presses a kiss on top of his head, before winding out of his vice grip and leave for the showers. Eren points out his dopey expression when he passes him, but Jean just points into Armin's direction and marches out of the room, smiling.


End file.
